


love was just a glance away

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Credence Barebone Crying During Sex, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Dating, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Feminization, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Student Credence Barebone, Underage Drinking, Writer Percival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Writer Percy Graves has been in a slump, until one day he sees the usually bright and chipper receptionist in his local coffeeshop haunt. He decides to take a risk and go say 'Hello.'Things go better than expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> super inspired by my real life, oops, and also tentatively by the epic Stripper AU thats by the lovely jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90's.  
> no strippers here. but the same vibe of modernism and like actual age gap etc.  
> also inspired by 'Boy We're Gold' in that its ridiculous UST and theres no build up here really, im lazy like that.

“Hello.”   
An unfamiliar but still friendly voice just chirped over at him, and Percy barely even looked to the front desk as he walked by, intent on making it into Starbucks before all the good tables get taken by college kids with their shiny laptops.

“You’re new.”   
Whoever was at the front desk nodded, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that their smile seemed locked in place, though their eyes shined bright.   
“Yes sir, have a nice day!”   
Formal.   
Clearly it wasn’t their first day without a touch of some training.   
Percy suspected maybe the new recruits get a day in the other side, the busy one, or so the rumors go, and then once they’re deemed ready they get plopped over in his building.   
  


It didn’t really matter. 

He was fairly self sufficient and hadn’t needed to call down for maintenance or to order food since he moved in, two years back.

He much preferred to take care of everything himself.   
Living on the top floor meant the best view, the highest mortgage, and most important of all, complete and total quiet. Ideal for being a writer crafting doom and gloom murder mysteries.   
He stepped out into the foggy day, and winced. It was a touch colder and far more damp than he had expected, but he wasn’t going to subject himself to a repeat of the morning routine because he didn’t have a heavy enough coat. Luckily, the local coffee shop kept their warm air blowing, and his coffee heated up his frozen fingers quickly enough. He snagged the corner table quickly, trying not to guffaw in triumph, setting up his own fairly outdated brick of a computer, plugged into the wall to prevent it dying on him. He sipped slowly at his coffee, until it had cooled far beyond scorching, it was finally safe to drink. 

He’d been stuck on the same plot point for the better part of a week and it drove him insane. Skipping past it wasn’t an option, and killing off a character for shock value or a change of pace would create more problems than it solved. Percy tapped over keys mindlessly, humming along to the ambient noise that passed for music those days, while chatter and the sounds of espresso machines filled the gaps in songs. 

It felt like he’d been sitting there for hours when his foot fell asleep, and he switched sides, crossing his legs less comfortably so, only to glance over at his clock in the corner of his screen, and it was barely noon. He blinked, and then tossed back the rest of his coffee. There was room in the budget for one more, but he closed the lid of his laptop before leaving his seat behind, stealing glances at it every few steps, though the crazy scenario of someone running into the coffee shop just to grab his laptop and dash was just that, crazy, when there were dozens of newer models surrounding him, screens flashing with useless games, and pointless filler.

Percy was just paranoid, and his imagination was far too brilliant. He hugged his arms to his sides as he waited to be able to give his second order, and noticed the brunette girl barista was stammering, looking somewhere over his shoulder to the front door. He caught sight of a tall, broad shouldered red haired kid, maybe a high school senior, clapping a hand on someone’s back, and beaming at the kids behind the counter, making them dissolve into giggles. Going off of the letter jacket that hugged his frame, he was someone important at their school. God, did all kids attend the same high school nowadays? Classes that graduated in the thousands?

Ridiculous. 

Percy got his coffee and returned to his seat, sliding blissfully back onto the hardwood, only to resume the feeling of dread upon opening his laptop to a blank page. Scrolling back up, he re-read over some of his past writing, the page he’d finished in one day, sloppy, and the paragraph note he’d scribbled onto his phone right out of the shower, and pasted in without changing the format. It was all a jumble and resulting in mixed chaos that seemed to never want to blend properly. Killing the victim had been the easiest part of the story, tying it all together now was the worst.

“Theo Salamander.”

The craziest name he’d ever heard, but in a world of Apple’s and Cocoa’s, it wasn’t that crazy, Percy supposed. He still resorted to baby name books for characters, googling things took far too long and gave him too many options. Narrowing it down to origin and meaning was good enough for him. He drank his second coffee slower, not craving the rush of energy caffeine would bring him that time, just savoring the flavor, willing the right words to come to him. They never did. For the rest of the day, he sat there, eyes glazed over, mildly people watching, but not really seeing.

Eventually he couldn’t ignore his own body’s need anymore, hunger clawing at his insides, and the beginnings of a headache pounding at his temples. He packed up his laptop and tossed away the empty cup, walking back to his apartment building with a feverish pace. He didn’t notice the desk person had changed until the voice that greeted him, welcoming him home, was a higher pitch, and he caught the sight of a tapered blond bob. Definitely not the same person.

“Thanks. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

A cold shower didn’t inspire him, but it did help him relax enough to lay down and hope he might dream up a solution to his problem.

 

* * *

 

Credence had gotten a job in the fanciest residential building in downtown, and he was working weekends to help pay for his car, that he would be getting after he got accepted into his college of choice, until then, he won’t need anything, he had got Theo to drive him around. It was probably horribly cliche to let one’s boyfriend do all the work, but then again, he’d been surprised at every turn by how not bad high school turned out to be, moving from California to New York.

Theo had waited for him, to buy anything, so that they could share or just drink together once he got off work on Sunday, his first full day alone, with only the phone to help him, as well as the whole internet. He tried to use the same smile on everyone, and greet with the same amount of pep, but around an hour into it, he was getting tired, and wishing he’d brought some coffee with him, instead of just water. He was halfway through a yawn when he noticed the telltale sound of the elevator arriving, and choked it down, throwing on another smile.

“Hello!”

The man didn’t even look his way, but smiled to himself, and kept walking even as he spoke, clearly directed to Credence.

“You must be new.”

His smile froze on his face, and he parroted the usual, 

“Have a nice day.” The entire time wondering why that sentence felt like a chastisement. Like he’d been  _ too _ friendly, or something. By the time he was off and near sprinting to the coffee shop, he realized he’d beaten Theo there. Everyone smiled at him behind the counter; the Goldsteins were in his boyfriend’s grade and their best friend, Theo’s little brother Newt was in his grade, but somehow, he’d just never gotten along with him all that well. Perhaps it was his obsession with bugs and crawling creepy things. Credence nodded politely and then scooped up his coffee to go sit by the window, one of his favorite table spots, to wait for Theo.

He came in, and everyone knew him. It still made Credence wonder why him, of all people, had the football star chosen to date, to hold his hand, to buy him orchids when it was a gloomy day, just like today. The purple potted one that Theo was clutching to his chest seemed to bloom right towards him, and the kiss on the cheek that turned into a slow tender one against his mouth made him smile.

“Hey baby. Good day at work?”

“The worst. I wanted to crawl into a ball and hide in the closet.”

Theo’s hand petted over his hair, tucking it behind an ear, stray strands tickling his chin.

“What happened?”

Credence shrugged, it wasn’t worth talking about, now that he was there. 

“So what are we gonna have today? Snowcones on sixth street, or did you want to stay here?”

“No, let’s go for a walk. I’ve been at a desk all morning.”

“Sorry, I could have picked you up at work, I just… my phone died, so I couldn’t have texted you.”

“It’s okay.”

He felt sappy, pathetic, stupid, but he loved holding Theo’s hand when they went anywhere, and that afternoon was no exception. The sun finally made an appearance from behind the clouds, and he squinted as he looked over, and caught Theo watching him with a smile.

“Going on three months, aren’t we? Should we have a fancy dinner to celebrate when we get to six? Or ask my brother to whip us something up? You know, he’s getting really into watching that food channel, tells me he thinks he’ll minor in it, cooking and veterinary, can you imagine?”

“They’ll think he cooks animals.”

Credence blushed as he realized what he’d just said, and Theo snorted.

“He would probably die if you said that. He’s only cooking with tofu and green shit. But man, he knows how to make kale taste mouthwatering. It’s a skill.”

He hummed and leaned into his boyfriend’s shoulder, smiling somewhat,

“If you tell him to use real meat, will he say no?”

Theo chuckled, and hugged him closer, turning him to properly line up for a kiss,

“It’s for us. So it’ll be the menu we want. But I’m more interested in what you’ll request for dessert.”

Theo’s scruff tickled Credence’s chin as they kissed, and his mind sped into overdrive. He suspected he knew what was being asked between the lines. Throughout their entire relationship, they’d been cautious, slow, and Credence had felt so guilty about it all, even when Theo had told him that what they  _ had _ done was still sex, he wanted to be able to give more, to do more, to  _ be _ everything. It just scared him overall, the idea of it, though he knew he was ready, it felt like something special that needed to be treasured, to be built up to.

For an anniversary of sorts, it would be perfect, the candles, the lights, there would be more flowers. In Credence’s imagination, he saw scattered pink rose petals and gently wafting curtains, while picturing Theo undressing him, finding him wearing something lacy that he knew most boys would never dream of owning, but he  _ did _ , and he was saving for something just like that, a momentous occasion, because after all, losing one’s virginity happened once.

“It’ll be wonderful.”

He had beamed, and Credence had smiled back, caught up in Theo’s infectious happiness, even as he dreaded going back to school, to get lost in the boring minutiae of the day to day boringness of class and lunch and homework. Weekends were his time off as much as nights were, but now he got paid for half of them, and all that money was his to keep, to save.

 

The months passed, full of the usual; school let out, summer was around the corner, and he wasn’t even worried about work anymore. Theo would be applying to be a lifeguard part time help with security and overnights. Credence even got a real smile from that weird business guy who always left at eight in the morning, headed god knew where, on days meant for quiet times and laziness. Credence was texting Theo that he hoped the guy wasn’t anyone important, like the two board members for the building he knew lived there, and his phone died. It took him a moment to remember that after he’d been dropped off home from the movies, he’d fallen asleep with his phone beside him. 

Not plugged in.

Good job.

Credence sighed, and set in inside the desk drawer, no point fighting it. He hadn’t brought a charger, he hadn’t thought he would  _ need _ it, so he was stuck, with no way to communicate. It was stupid. He’d be free in five hours, laughing about his stupidity with Theo, chugging a coffee he didn’t need as he worried about their anniversary dinner tomorrow night.

He’d actually been weird enough to iron the fucking things, the shimmery green and silver lace mocking him from the board, and the smoothed edges now hung crisp and perfect, off the hanger he’d put them on just outside his closet. His family thought they were a present for a girlfriend, and his sisters envied the mysterious non existent girl. He tried not to skip over to the coffee shop once he got off work, but he found himself doing it anyway, landing inside the doors with his heart pounding, and his breath caught in his chest. Luckily the air conditioning was going at full blast, chilling his sweaty face as soon as he walked inside. He grinned over at Tina and then stopped in his tracks, his usual ‘ _ hello _ ’ dying on his lips.

“What’s up?”

“You don’t know?”

He stepped closer to the counter and he held up his phone,

“It’s outta juice. Did Theo text you? Is he gonna be late?”

He spotted Queenie out of the corner of his eye, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, shaking her head. He can’t help the frown that bunches his eyebrows together,

“Where’s Newt?”

“He left early, he’s there right now.”   
Credence sighed, and tucked his phone away,

“Did we have a change in plans? We’re meeting somewhere else?”

Tina reached over and snagged his wrist, pressing a finger hard into his skin,

“Theo… honey, he’s been in an accident. Newt’s at the hospital with him… he said he’s been texting you all morning.”

“Oh. I’m sure it’s just…”

He didn’t realize he’d fallen until he woke up in Queenie’s grasp, and she was helping him over to a couch.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’ll be alright. Newt’s promised to text us with an update soon. Here. Drink this.”

“What happened?”

She blinked down at him, blue eyes wide, and shrugged,

“I don’t know. All he said was it was a drunk driver, ran a stop sign. He got lucky. Had his seatbelt on of course. Theo’s good like that.”

It was just a concussion, some whiplash, and maybe a broken rib. Credence was going to the hospital as soon as Tina got off, and could drive him, with her mom’s help. He couldn’t call anyone else, after all, his phone was dead.

A glass brick, wasting space in his pocket.

He stared at the counter, the menu words blurring together as he sipped the water Queenie had brought him. It was cold but not over ice, it helped. A hint of lemon. She was great, a perfect barista, a future party planner in the making, if you asked him.

Normally his mind would be racing, but now, his heart did, and his thoughts were painfully silent, he was frozen, waiting for the chance to go, get on his feet, and run to Theo’s side. Like some sort of drama, he was the panic stricken lover, and he imagined Theo would laugh at him, tell him he’d worried for nothing. They might have to reschedule their… dessert, but they could still celebrate with dinner.

He drained the cup, and fisted his hands at his sides, as time crawled by.

 

* * *

The new kid at the desk wasn’t so new anymore, and he wasn’t chirpy anymore either. Percy walked by and barely got a smile for his trouble, until he was pushing out the door, and he heard something like _ ‘have a nice day’  _ drift across his ears. He frowned, wondering if he should complain to the office, or if it was a waste of time. Probably a little of both. He pressed on, and found his table taken, crowded by a bunch of kids in what looked like grey camouflage. He never spoke to the baristas beyond giving over his order and stepping aside, but today, he broke that rule.

“Some kind of… nerd convention in town, or is it a new trend?”

The brunette girl with the shiny nametag that read ‘Tina’ actually coughed, and then plastered on the fakest smile he’d ever laid eyes on. Her own dark eyes were glistening,

“Oh, no sir. It’s for a memorial. We lost someone last week. He’d been a friend to us all. It seemed a little dramatic to wear all black for three days, so we went with charcoal. He’d have thought us ridiculous. Here you go.”

To his surprise, and mild horror at his own lack of tact, he accepted the coffee and then went right back out the door. He wasn’t going to sit in that kind of space, and pretend everything was okay, writing a whole bunch of nothing surrounded by such gloom. 

It was one thing to write about death, another to witness its effects on a bunch of… kids. Just students, barely more than children, why did it matter?

“Hello, welcome back.”

The same not-quite-monotone greeted him upon his return to the apartment complex, and Percy nodded, sipping his coffee to avoid replying, and stabbed the elevator button, willing it to come back down for him quickly.

It didn’t.

He stood there in awkward silence, and winced as he took too big of a sip and it scalded his throat. The kid at the desk was typing something, probably an email complaint about how residents were ignoring him or generally being dicks, and he sighed. Once the elevator arrived, he almost ran inside, and turned around to say goodbye, stupidly, and noticed a grey scarf loosely tied around the kid’s neck. 

His coffee tasted more bitter than usual on his tongue, but he downed it anyway, and tossed the empty cup in his trash can, before returning to his office space, plopping into his chair, and proceeding to stare at his blank page for an hour. The cursor blinked accusingly at him, and he frowned, the rumbling in his stomach likely from chugging the coffee and skipping breakfast of any kind. It was bizarre, over the last few months he’d alternated between a page a day and then twenty in one sitting, all up to now, he was at a loss for words again. The front desk people were great, putting up with his addiction as much as his own editor and staff, the ebb and flow of pages into his rough draft becoming more and more ebb than flow, as his deadline started to loom. Summer reads, they insisted, much more eyes on titles then, when people were headed to the beaches and the cabins, that’s where he’d do best. So hurry up!

Percy let out a groan, and thumbed over his cell phone, finding the speed dial for his favorite take out place, and reluctantly giving in.

He didn’t need to call downstairs to the front desk to assure that it was okay for his food order to be sent up, but he did anyway, and he felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with hunger pains when the kid at the desk answered, and sniffled. They’d been crying.

“Hey, so I ordered chinese, just let them up when they get here…”

“Okey dokey. Apartment 79 right?”

“Yeah. Third to the left off the elevator.”

“Got it. Have a good one!”

He clicked off and ended up staring at his cellphone, mouthing ‘what the fuck’ at his own reaction, or reply, the lack thereof probably making him come off as a rude snob. 

When his doorbell rang twenty minutes later, he dragged himself up and to the door, accepting his food with a reluctant thanks, and a scribble of his name on the receipt. He was too hungry and tired to care that he might have tipped too much, and he fell asleep on his couch right after, surrounded by the smell of oranges from the chicken sauce.

His phone buzzed with texts from his editor, but he ignored them, and slept on. It was Sunday, fucking give him a break, he could always power through the rest of the pages at three a.m. when he woke up, bleary and disoriented from his impromptu nap. Yeah.

 

* * *

Credence sat in his chair, faced his desk, and wanted it over. Couldn’t wait for it to end, the shift, the day, the year. He was considering dropping out, leaving work and never coming back, because what did it matter? He didn’t want to go to the college  _ they _ had picked out, attend classes and come home to a dorm filled with strangers, all the while driving a car he shouldn’t have really needed. He’d gotten one, because a forty mile commute could not be accomplished with a friend’s help  _ every weekend _ . He’d gone with the Goldsteins, had a recommendation of a second hand car that held several thousand miles, but ran like new. He’d started crying after he got inside it, and driven home, and his parents had thought he was just happy to have it. They didn’t realize what it represented. They didn’t know. So he lied. More and more every day.

 

_ ‘Hi how are you?’ _

 

_ ‘I’m fine thank you. How are you?’ _

 

And so it went. On and on, until he thought he might choke from all the lies, from the constant sad looks he got in the halls and going to the coffee shop after work, now a pointless tradition, that held no purpose. He walked over towards the window, and fell into a chair, tugging his letter jacket around himself tightly. He didn’t need it for warmth, not when it was so hot he would start sweating in the distance between his car and the building, it was more for his own sanity. He could wear it and pretend his entire world hadn’t fallen apart, and he was just waiting for Theo to show up. 

“Excuse me, are you using this chair?”

Credence opened his mouth to lie, to insist that yes, he needed it, and the person asking could kindly fuck off, but the words died in his throat, as he looked up to find someone he knew. The tall business guy from work. The crazy weekend worker, much like himself, always in a hurry, in or out.

“No. It’s all yours.”

“Oh I don’t need it. I was hoping to join you. You look lonely over here, by yourself.”

Credence blinked stupidly up at him, and then frowned.

“Don’t you know me? I mean, I don’t have my name tag on, but, you don’t want to sit with me… do you?” Him, as in, boring Credence, the front desk guy, who probably wasn’t even allowed to talk to residents outside of work.

“Oh… that’s right. You’re the greeter. You’re the brightest thing in that lobby, outside of the sun, around seven, when I check my mail… what changed? You don’t seem… yourself?”

He tucked his chin over the collar of the jacket, and shrugged.

“Summer is here. But I don’t feel like I graduated. It feels more like… I’m stuck. Sorry. Not like complaining fixes anything.”

“Congratulations? No wonder I’ve been seeing you more often. Thought maybe I was imagining it.”

Credence glanced over to find the man smiling, gently, kind, as he held out his hand, and he reluctantly unspooled his arms to take it, grip firm, and they shook once, twice.

“No, I’m full time now.”

“So there will be much more of your lovely face, brightening up our days. Hmm?”

Credence felt his lips quirk into a smile, the first one in days, maybe weeks and months, as his mouth goes dry.

“You really mean it?”

He’s heard things, whispers of the sort, that the other employees tolerate him because he’s always on time, but he doesn’t believe that anyone actively enjoys working around him, residents know him as the ‘ _ friendly’ _ one, apparently, but hearing it directly from the man could be called enough to break him. 

His eyes glaze over with tears as he dropped his face down, looking pointedly at his shoes, and tugging on one of the plastic edged sleeves, gasping out a thank you, which seemed over dramatic in his head, and sounded worse from his tight throat.

“Hey, hey, do you need a drink? You must be parched.”

He hardly noticed the man getting up and going over, talking to Tina, requesting an ice water, and then he was back, falling into the seat across from Credence, pushing the cup into his hand, which had just been splayed on the table, taking up space.

“So what do you do when you’re not working, like, obviously right now. Besides enjoy a cool beverage on a hot day?”

He lifted his eyes up from the water droplets running down the side of the plastic cup, and found the man’s own dark gaze on him, concerned, curious, not mocking him in the least. It made his back itch, and his heart skip a beat. 

It was stupid. 

He was used to people staring at him, he’d suffered through graduation with what felt like thousands of eyes on him, the best kept secret that everyone knew, he was the poor ex boyfriend who was still somewhat in the closet.

The funeral had been a brief service, and his parents thought he went because he was friends with Newt, and the Goldsteins had let him sit with them. It was too painful to put the truth to words, that they’d barely been anything, they’d just almost become  _ something _ , before the coma, and the bleeding, the end of three weeks of praying and hoping, had come up empty.

Every time Credence came home and saw the flash of silver and green, something inside his stomach clenched, and he felt sick. So he didn’t go home much. He worked, and worked and worked through the summer, and residents joked that he must not sleep because he was always there. There. He was there more time than he was at home.

“Sleep. Try not to think about life.”

He’d said too much, he knew it the moment the words left his mouth, and he saw the man’s eyes widen, as he took a sip of his own drink, not coffee, but a sparkling pink berry lemonade. It smelled nice.

“You know, that’s good. Honesty is good. I appreciate it. Forgive me, I’ve been horribly rude. I’m Percy Graves. You don’t have your name tag on… I’m at a loss I’m afraid.”

Credence found himself patting his chest before he realized what the man, Mister Graves, had said.

“Oh. It’s Credence.”

Mister Graves looked at all the numerous patches on the jacket, the last name stitched on the sleeve, and he smiled.

“Credence Salamander? That’s a unique one.”

He almost choked on his sip of water, and was shaking his head so hard it hurt, his own curls whipping into his face,

“No. no. It’s a… Friend’s jacket. Not mine. My last name is Nole.”

“Good friend, to let you wear their letter jacket. I remember, even in my day, those were a big deal.”

Credence let the obvious question slide off his back, and focused on Mister Graves, the here and now,

“Did you have one? Were you an athlete or in band?”

The man chuckled, and shook his head,

“Unfortunately, neither. You see before you the best example of, uh, ugly duckling. I was always a writer. I was the one who  _ liked _ pop quizzes and essays and… god. Everyone hated me because I wore glasses and asked too many questions.”

Credence blinked, then frowned again. That seemed highly unlikely. Glasses? The man was looking at him with nothing to mar his gaze, just dark brown endless eyes, and hair streaked with silver, framing a handsome face. He was just kidding, joking around to make Credence feel better, as if he had a chance to be more, to be something useful, besides a pretty face. After all, what did footballers and cheerleaders do if they couldn’t make a career out of their high school lives?

“I had lasik a few years back, so I don’t have to wear them anymore. Everything okay? You looked lost in thought.”

A fingertip touched the back of his wrist, and like magic, was gone, the man was retreating, holding his own drink with both hands, leaving Credence staring down at his own hand, looking insane.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t…”

“Get out much?”

His eyes snapped up to Mister Graves, only to find he was smiling again, and Credence was tempted to do the same, even if it meant making fun of himself, just a little. He didn’t do much beyond work, he knew. 

“I’m sorry, I know that sounds mean. I don’t have many social graces myself. I’ll uh, let you get back to your solitude. Don’t work too hard now, okay?”

Mister Graves was getting to his feet, and moving away, smile waning, as Credence opened his mouth to protest, that he didn’t need to go,  _ he _ should be the one to leave, but he took up his bag, with his laptop inside, no doubt, and was halfway out the door before he could think of anything to say.

“Who was that?”

Tina stepped out from behind the counter in a rare move, to come see him, hugging him and petting a hand reverently over the jacket.

Credence remained silent, and shrugged finally, giving Tina the chance to ramble, to guess. He nodded when she was close, and shook his head if she got too off track. 

“He lives in the building, right?”

“Mhm.”

Noncommittal.

Eventually she went back to work, and he was left, sweating under the jacket, counting the minutes until he would have to go home. He didn’t want to hit any traffic, and once he got home, he headed straight for bed. He fell asleep with the scent of Theo’s cologne surrounding him. 

He woke up the next morning with the jacket on the floor, and tears on his face.

Dreaming of what couldn’t be and crying for the loss of it was becoming a regular thing, and it needed to stop. Reluctantly he folded the jacket up, and tucked it away, way back inside his closet, never to be seen again, at least for a while. He was so tired of just feeling sad, he couldn’t stand it. There had to be something he could do, if it meant bending the rules, so be it. He showered and got dressed again, and drove to work, mind numb, and limbs heavy, stopping for coffee and a breakfast burrito on the way, trying his best to eat elegantly and not just shove it into his mouth. He wasn’t expecting to see Mister Graves on a Wednesday morning, but there he was, strolling past, bag in hand, throwing a curt smile his way, until he blinked, and focused.

“Credence? Isn’t this your day off?”

 

* * *

 

Percy was breaking his usual rules, he was braving the fray at eight in the morning on a weekday, expecting to hit rush hour and bigger crowds than he’d ever had to fight through, but all that slowed down when he noticed just who was at the front desk, hastily finishing off what smelled like a delicious morning snack. Breakfast. Oh yeah. That.

Credence wiped off his mouth and gave him a smile,

“I had to fill in. Charlie was sick.”

“Who?”

To Percy’s shame, he could scarcely remember the days of the week, much less everyone’s name around him, and when he saw Credence duck his head, pink blossoming over his cheeks, he knew it probably looked bad to have asked.

“I mean, yeah, the pool guy right? He’s nice. Is he okay?”

“He’s got a cold. A cough. Feverish. Can’t come in for three days.”

Percy nodded,

“That’s a good rule of thumb.” Like he was some kind of medical writer, when all he really knew were five dozen ways to kill someone without leaving obvious evidence, and nine ways to properly remove blood from most surfaces.

“So here I am.”

Credence was smiling, but rather than looking fake, it seemed strained, as if… Percy stepped closer, and he saw dark smudges under the boy’s eyes, when he wasn’t looking directly up and with the bright lights splashing on his face. 

“You need a day off too, don’t you?”

“Mhm, but money helps.”

Percy sighed. 

Overtime was nice, agreed. Still. 

“How late do you work?”

“Until four.”

_ ‘As always,’ _ was what Credence politely left off. Percy knew better, he’d been working the same shift almost six months now, like clockwork.

“Any plans after?”

Credence blinked, and shook his head.

The manuscript in his hand was burning a hole through his bag almost, scorching his thigh, but there was little else to do once he turned it in and got rejected or accepted.

“I’ll order food to be delivered at four. Tell them to leave it here. I’ll get it when I get back.”

The boy was still frowning as he turned to go, and Percy knew, smart as he was, he’d figure it out. Or he’d put it in the fridge and his relief at four o’clock would be passing it off to him.

Either way,  _ he’d _ have lunch.

There was nothing quite as satisfying as walking in and shoving his papers at his editor, a triumphant smile all that greeted the questions.

“You said you weren’t done, I thought you were blocked? You wanted more time? Perce, what the fuck is going on?”

He shrugged,

“I guess… I got inspired.”

Real life writes the stories from our souls, he didn’t add, because he knew, no one cared about that bit. He hemmed and hawed for a few moments, and eventually got the verdict. 

It needed work, but there was real promise.

Percy smirked,

“You know this isn’t my first rodeo, right George?”

“I know. Don’t be such a smartass Perce. Go on. Go celebrate, and then put your nose to the grindstone before August.”

“Yes sir.”

“At ease, soldier.”

“Oh fuck off.”

He was laughing even as he was cringing at himself, and taking the stairs two at a time, to call for the valet, to get his car back. He hated the drive over, but the drive back now held something to look forward to. The clock read quarter to three, so he was doing okay on time, there was plenty of it to stop at the store, grab a bottle of wine. Celebrate indeed.

He had already gone through the checkout and was about to pull into his garage when he remembered… he didn’t know how old Credence was besides being a senior who’d graduated. Oh lord, was he about to make an underage kid drink when he’d just gotten off work?

What sort of monster was he?

He was just trying to be welcoming? Didn’t want to drink alone? He was…

His phone chirped with the text alert. The food was here, and Credence might have already left, or worse, reported him for his behavior. All his books were about terrible people, he wasn’t going to turn into one of those, he wouldn’t dare.

Percy almost stumbled out of the elevator when it landed on the first floor, and he saw Credence still at the desk, typing away, as the phone rang.

“Don’t answer that!”

The boy looked up, startled, and he nearly smacked himself in the face.

“Sorry… I mean, obviously, answer the phone. Do your job.”

Credence went through the motions, took care of the customer on the end of the line, and then hung up the phone to watch Percy as he moved to stand in front of the desk, eyeing the brown paper sack perched on the other side of the desk.

“Is that my food?”

“No sir. It’s someone’s groceries. They said they’d be right back. It’s only three forty-five. You said your food was at four.”

He didn’t have his watch or his phone, but he’d sworn the alert had said delivered. There was a knock on the door, and Credence sighed.

“It’s unlocked till five. Why don’t people try the door  _ then _ ?”

Percy smiled to himself, amused by the rare show of exasperation, and he watched Credence let the person in, only to discover  _ that _ was his food.

It had said ‘ _ out for delivery _ ’ and he also needed another glass of wine, besides the first one he’d shotgunned before running downstairs.

“Thank you.” He signed the delivery man’s clipboard, and smiled tightly, glad when he finally left, with Credence already having retreated back behind his desk, playing the part of cool and calm receptionist again.

As if he wasn’t buzzing with nerves like Percy was.

Or maybe he wasn’t truly, and Percy was the only one looking like an idiot, a fool trying to ask someone out while gauging interest at the same time.

“You uh, how old are you?”

The bottles of wine were going to remain in his fridge, until he decided to finish them off, alone, he could feel it, even before the boy opened his mouth to reply, punching the air from his lungs.

“I’m seventeen. Eighteen in September.”

Just in time to vote.

“I guess so, yeah.”

Percy clamped his mouth shut, unaware how much he spoke aloud by accident. How much alcohol content was in that wine?

“Well, anyway. If you want, I won’t be able to eat all this food. You know where I live.”

God that sounded awkward and creepy and he was coming off like an utter loser, inviting a, a practical child to have late lunch or early dinner with him, and he already had wine opened at the crack of ‘ _ it’s five o’clock’  _ somewhere.

“I don’t even know if I can-”

“-Hey Credence, what’s up?”

The voice he doesn’t know lilted through the lobby, and Percy retreated to the elevator as fast as he could, laden with enough food for ten people. The doors close behind him so he doesn’t have to watch Credence ignoring him, and the exchanging of the guard has begun.

It’s four o’clock.

He would just have to get used to being alone.

 

* * *

Credence was torn, even as he let Albus take his place, smiling merrily over his glasses the whole way, he paused at the elevator, seconds before handing over the keys, he considered, what’s the harm in making a friend, after all, would Theo want him to remain in solitary confinement in his mind, forever?

No.

No he wouldn’t. The Goldsteins have tried, bless them, but Credence doesn’t like having girls as friends if he can’t properly confess to them all that he wants and likes and hopes and dreams for. It’s all rather silly.

“I’m going to get water. I’ll come out the stairs.”

Albus hummed at him, nodding to someone who was walking in, going in the direction of their mailbox. Now was his chance. So he scanned the elevator down, and stepped inside, relishing the momentary silence, before punching the button for the seventh floor. Mister Graves had asked how old he was, and the curiosity at such a strange question was eating him alive.

It was answered swiftly after he knocked upon the man’s door, and it was opened to reveal Mister Graves himself, clutching a half empty glass of red wine, with a surprised look on his strikingly handsome face. He stepped aside, and gestured for Credence to come in, as he’d been lingering on the front stoop, tingling with anticipation and something like nervous energy. It’s stupid, but he had never seen the inside of one of the residences yet, and when it comes to Mister Graves’, why his apartment was an architect's dream come true. On the top two floors there were vaulted ceilings, and floor to roof windows, so it was bright as could be, since the sun was still high up in the sky. He was staring with his mouth open and Mister Graves had asked him a question.

“Sorry?”

“I said,  _ ‘what do you think?’ _ ”

Credence faltered, his hands wringing together in front of his chest, a nervous habit he’d possessed since the orphanage, since long before, when he thought he’d never be safe again.

“About what?”

Mister Graves smiled, and Credence suspected the man knew he hadn’t been listening one hundred percent.

“Anything. The apartment, the type of food? You’ve been walking around my living room silently for the better part of a minute. So, I admit, I’m a little worried. Can I get you something to drink?”

Mister Graves was nursing his wine glass, but Credence somehow knew that wasn’t his same second one, he’d had a third, and the bottle was more empty than full. Jealousy roared up inside him, churning in his gut, along with a fresh wave of guilt.   

What was he even doing there?

“I… what do you have?”

“Wine, soda, juice, or iced tea, I think.”

If he asked for wine, what would happen? He could already smell the food as the man began to plate it, and something slipped into place, overwhelming the guilt.

Want.

He was tired of being ordered around by his emotions, his grief. 

“I’d like some of whatever you’re drinking, please.”

He stepped closer, watching as Mister Graves blinked in surprise, and then moved to retrieve a second glass, before filling it halfway, and then glancing over to him,

“Is that enough?”

Credence nodded, unsure if he’d even like the taste, but he accepted the glass and took a sip before he could think too hard about it. The taste was bitter, dry and with a sharp tang that reminded him of the afterburn from champagne on New Year’s Eve. 

“Thank you.”

“I hope it’s not your first experience with liquor…”

The man watched him as he took another drink, and Credence bit his lip,

“No, it’s not. It’s nice.”

“You don’t have to lie to me… if it’s terrible… please, let me know. I’ll get you something different.”

Credence blinked, and sipped slowly.

“It’s not… bad. Just a bit tart. Needs more sugar.”

Mister Graves coughed, or perhaps it was a laugh, 

“Is that so? I apologize. My wine tastes are not of the sweeter variety. But if you like, I do have some sprite, or ginger ale to mix it with?”

Credence considered and then smiled, tentative, slow, before nodding. 

“Thank you. Sprite sounds perfect.”

“It’ll cut the bitterness. I promise.”

Mister Graves cracked open a can, and the sparkling fizz caught Credence’s ear, distracting him from where he’d been staring at the man’s muscular arm, revealed through his shirt sleeves, folded up to his elbow. Why was that so attractive?

“Fork or chopsticks?”

Credence blinked, and accepted the glass, feeling their fingers brush together.

“Just… a fork is fine. Thank you.”

Another sip of the wine, and it was pleasant enough now, sweeter, bubbly, and with a bite to the end, the alcohol, of course. Mister Graves smiled at him, before returning to focus on the food, and Credence barely avoided pinching himself. They were just having an early dinner, late lunch, and then he’d be off, he’d make it to the coffee shop in time for Tina to pass along the latest gossip and he’d have nothing to say in return, as usual.

They sat next to each other on the couch, instead of the stiff seating of the dining room table, and Credence almost choked on his noodles when the man’s knee bumped his, when he reached over to pick up his fourth, or maybe his fifth glass of wine.

Credence himself had managed to down two, rather quickly, stunned at how well it complimented the food. Nothing was too spicy, but it did seem oversalted, so he found himself chasing every bite with some wine, and that was how he ended up with a headache beginning to build in his temples. He winced upon setting his glass down, and Mister Graves quirked a brow at him.

“Alright there? Not too spicy?”

“Oh, oh no it's fine. Thank you.”

“Always so polite. You're not on the clock, you can be honest.”

Credence blinked, dazedly,

“I would never lie to you sir.”

“I know. I just meant… well. Nevermind.”

Credence was burning with curiosity and pleasantly feeling buzzed from the wine.

“No, what did you want to ask?”

For some reason he was more afraid of what the answer would be, rather than the question, and when Mister Graves finally spoke again, after a sigh, he knew he’d been right to worry.

“What made you so sad that day? The first time I saw you in the coffee shop… what dimmed your light?”

He finished the glass of wine he had in front of him, and then drew in a ragged breath before replying.

“I lost someone… who I cared about. It was very sudden, and I didn’t get the chance to tell him goodbye… it’s super heavy. Sorry.”

A hand was warm on his knee, gripping tight, firm, grounding, and Credence fought to breathe.

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, so young. Grief is a natural part of life, but you don’t have to apologize for it to me. We all have our lives, things that occur and we can’t ignore or bury deep down, even when you have to put on a face for work, pretend its okay.”

Credence tried not to list into the man’s body, but the second he set down the empty wine glass, he had nothing to hold him down, nothing keeping him on earth except Mister Graves, the strong frame of his shoulders was a natural point for him to fall into, to rest his cheek on, and the tears he’d fought so hard to keep back spilled forth, wetting over his face and soaking into the man’s shirt.

He hadn’t realized he’d been shaking until he felt the man’s arm wrap around his back, and he allowed himself to be moved, shifted onto Mister Graves’ lap, held close and shushed with a soothing hand rubbing over his spine. He was nestled against the man’s chest, chin tucked into his neck and shoulder, and god, it was so comfortable, and warm. He’d not felt anything like that in… months.

Not since…

He shuddered through another sob, wracking his entire body, and he felt the hand over his back shift up, squeezing at his shoulders, while the man’s other hand petted the nape of his neck, smoothing the wayward curls there.

“It’s alright. It’s okay. Let it all out.”

“Why --- are you --- being so nice --- to me?”

He got out through hiccups, and the man rumbled out his reply, vibrating into Credence’s chest,

“Why, it’s the right thing to do. I didn’t ask you over to take advantage of your politeness. I wanted to get to know you better.”

“Really?”

Mister Graves nodded,

“I hope you understand all that entails… it means listening, it means…”

He pulled back to look down at the man, from where he was perched somewhat precariously in his lap, and he realized just how close they had gotten. Even through his tear damp lashes, he could see flecks of gold in the man’s brown eyes, and he dropped his gaze lower, just in time to catch Mister Graves licking his lips.

“Caring.”

The man’s voice had fallen to a whisper, a rasp thanks to the wine, or perhaps something else, and Credence was frozen, kept still by his own fear, nerves rooting him to the spot, even as the hand on his hip tightened, and the fingers on his neck curled, pulling him in, so he bent.

Mister Graves’ mouth was hot on his, and wet, mainly from the glide of his tongue over the seam of Credence’s lips, and he parted them on a sigh, wishing he could think of something to say to stop it, though he didn’t want to. He liked being dizzy, and he loved the way strong hands helped him remain steady atop the broad thighs beneath him.

“You’re… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Credence.”

The hand at his neck loosened, sliding down to cup over his bicep, and then trailing over his wrist, and twining their fingers, Mister Graves brought one of Credence’s hands to his mouth, and kissed over his knuckles, locking their eyes together.

“I-it’s okay. I like kissing you.”

It sounded stupid when he said it aloud, but it was true. The man was laughing, shaking gently under him, and bracing a hand on each hip again while Credence shifted his own arms, to hold onto the back of the couch, once his hand had been freed from the man’s grasp.

“You’re painfully sweet, you know?”

Credence could say the same, as kissing Mister Graves had been like wine, but better, mixed with the lingering spice from his dinner, and something else, earthier below that. He didn’t know quite what to say, and even as the man’s grip shifted, nudging him back, out of his lap onto his side of the couch.

Disappointment flooded his veins, and the man’s hand smoothed against the small of his back, before he let go, and got to his feet, collecting their empty wine glasses and dirty dishes, putting them all into the kitchen, a clink and clank that startled him, and forced him up, onto his own shaky legs, fumbling for his keys and wallet and phone, halfway down the hallway to the front door before Mister Graves even noticed what had happened.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

He froze again, his hand wrapped around the doorknob, and steeled himself,

“I shouldn’t be here. I don’t even know what I was thinking… being stupid. You--” Credence broke off, unsure where he’d intended on going with that thought, and footsteps sounded, trapping him at the door.

“Why are you running off? Did I do something wrong? Should I not have kissed you? Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m so lost inside my own head sometimes… thinking I can predict what’s supposed to happen next… fuck.”

Mister Graves was rubbing a hand down the length of his face, and Credence worried over his bottom lip.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I thought  _ I _ did.”

The man looked over at him, and smiled, somewhat sadly,

“I guess maybe I’m really out of practice Credence. If I asked you to stay, for one more drink… would you?”

Credence blinked, and then nodded. 

“Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive resisted posting this right away because i havent written shit all in 4 days and i hate everything i DO write. so. yeah.

Awkward was a nice way of putting how Percy felt after chasing after Credence, although, it was a bit less so when he started his sixth, or seventh, glass of wine and came back from the kitchen to find the boy sitting on the couch once more, looking more content, and less jittery.

The wine helped, he guessed.

What a bombshell too. Clearly the student who had died a few months back was someone Credence had been close to, but how much, and what sort of relationship… well, that was getting a little too personal, and though he knew that alcohol loosened lips, he certainly didn’t want to make things any worse for them. What was that even? Were they on a date? Were they just visiting? He’d had to go and fuck up and kiss the poor thing, when he’d been plopped right in his lap, crying his eyes out. Why, he’d been so pretty with tears wetting those long lashes and a flush to his cheeks, it was unreal. Percy hadn’t been able to resist kissing him much less touching him, wondering if he could rub off some of that delicate color for himself, to keep, to hold the boy to him until he stopped crying and felt more like himself.

God, what was the matter with him? Getting so attached so quickly.

He couldn’t even focus on what was in front of him, much less manage to get anything less than a shitty first and second draft turned in, yet his publishers had said it was good. Celebrate, they’d said, there he was, with a person who had more tragedy in his past than he deserved, and he didn’t feel like partying, he wanted to lay down, and just hold on to the boy, and pray he wouldn’t be bored to tears.

“What did you mean, before?”

Percy glanced over to the boy, from where he was sipping delicately at his own wine, and he caught the tail end of another blush.

“Which part of what?”

That made Credence smile, and he cleared his throat before clarifying,

“The bit about practice?”

“Oh. That.”

The boy hummed, and shifted closer, slow, subtle enough to seem like an accident, but when he reached over to set his glass down, he didn’t retreat, and now their knees bumped together again. Percy’s heartbeat thudded in his ears, and he tried to maintain calm, even as his mind raced, replaying the way it had felt to have such a warm and welcome weight on his lap, in his arms, that kiss… goddamnit.

“If you want this to be more than just a friendly chat, dinner between two guys…”

“I was planning for my six month anniversary with my boyfriend, though I wasn’t officially out yet. I’m still not.”

His heart dropped around to his stomach, and he swallowed his recent sip of wine very quickly.

“I see.”

“Yeah? I mean… it’s all new for me honestly. I didn’t know what it was supposed to be like, this dating and falling in love. Then I met him, and it was just,  _ right _ .”

There was a hand on his shoulder, tentative, stroking over his skin, the touch burning through his shirt, and Percy realized it was Credence, reaching out, making contact.

“This is never easy, but I think… he would want me to be happy, if I could find someone kind and good for me. I don’t want to be grieving forever, you know?”

Percy hardly dared to draw a breath, but he looked up to find Credence watching him very closely, and he nodded, holding perfectly still when the boy leaned in, eyes just fluttering shut as their lips met again. Credence leaned on his shoulder, and then pressed him back into the couch, looming over him once more, no tears that time, just quiet gasps, and a low moan that sent shivers down his spine.

When he finally  _ moved _ and put his arms around the boy, he melted against Percy’s chest, and the kiss softened, slowing down into a lazy slip and slide of lips, only a hint of tongue, and their noses brushed together, before Credence pulled back.

“Is this, okay? Am I doing it right?”

Percy nodded, and inhaled shakily,

“It’s okay with me. You do whatever you like.”

Blue balls had nothing on comfort levels, and what mattered most was the possibility of more, the chance to know him better, and if it took a second, third, or even fourth date, he’d be content.

“I think, I need to get home soon, but I’ve had a really nice time.”

He squeezed each hand he had on Credence’s hips, and nodded, letting the boy nuzzle against his cheek, and he felt a kiss pressed to the side of his neck, just below his ear.

“I’m glad to hear that. If you want me to give you some space… I can. Or you can have my number… you have my number don’t you? Let me know… if you want to try again?”

Credence nodded again.

“Mhm. Please. I could do something on the weekend. I’m off.”

Percy couldn’t help smiling,

“Okay. Yeah. I knew that.”

“Are you okay to drive?”

Credence mumbled something into the space where his neck curved into his shoulder, and Percy frowned,

“What’s that?”

“I think so.”

“You had what, three glasses? Maybe you better wait a little longer. Thirty minutes or so. I’ll leave you be, let you nap.”

Though his libido protested such a selfless act, he knew he’d thank himself later, and Credence just melted into it, letting Percy guide him to lay down on the couch properly, as he tucked a throw blanket around his shoulders, and moved back to let him put his feet up.

He stole away rather quickly to his bedroom, and master bath, pausing only to lock the door and rest an arm against the door, pressing his mouth to his wrist, muffling his groaning as he shoved a hand through his hurriedly opened button fly, and palmed over his cock, wantonly digging his heels in, as he began fucking into his fist.

His fingers slipped off the head, from too much precome aiding his strokes, and he brought his hand higher, gripping the base hard, and allowing his arousal to build up by teasing himself. It was stupid, the sheer need he felt, and how much he wanted to thrust up against Credence when he had him in his lap, but who the fuck does that on a first date?

Only him apparently.

He shuddered against the wall, grateful to be held so perfectly upright, as he finally relented, fingers sliding back down to circle the head, and he stumbled forward, twitching, as his cock dripped onto the floor, then with more purpose, he pictured how Credence would look, grinding down against his lap, mindlessly lost in his own pleasure, that was how Percy came, in slow drooling white strands over his own shoes and onto the floor.

“Fucking christ.”

He washed his hands and redid his pants, cleaned up the mess he had made, then went back out to the living room to check on his guest. Credence had passed out, his hands pressed delicately together beneath his cheek, plush lips parted, and dark curls messily falling over his face and spilling out from his shirt collar.

He was far too beautiful to be so sad, Percy itched to be able to take that from him, to make a difference, and bring more smiles back to his life. 

Percy walked away, and took a seat opposite him, letting him rest for the better part of an hour, before he stirred on his own, blinking lazily, and sitting up to frown at his surroundings.

“Oh… how long was I out?”

“Not long. You feeling okay?”

Credence nodded, and then sighed,

“I should really go now. I’ve stepped on your hospitality long enough.”

Percy shrugged,

“It’s no problem. Promise you won’t avoid me?”

Credence stumbled over his words, and it made him smile.

“You’ll see me first thing Monday morning, at my desk.”

“Indeed. You’re still the highlight of my day. That is, if I can get any work done.”

Credence finally smiled too, as Percy walked him to the door, and ducked his head,

“I think, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It’s true. Goodnight Credence.”

“Goodnight Mister Graves.”

 

* * *

The next time Credence was in the coffee shop, he flew to Tina’s side.

“I need your help.”

She blinked over at him and leaned on the counter, chin in her hand,

“What’s up?”

“I’m seeing someone.”

Her brows rose up to her dark bangs,

“What? That’s great. Right?”

Credence shrugged, trailing a hand through some spilled sugar, which Tina quickly smacked away before applying a damp rag to the counter, and sweeping it all up.

“I think so? It’s only been a month.”

“Two months. It’s almost July Credence.”

“Yeah.”

“Where did you meet her? What’s she like?”

Credence’s hand froze on the display he’d been about to pick something up from, pretending to study it,

“We… uh, she lives where I work. Sort of.”

“That’s great Cree. How long have you been seeing her?”

“Just one date so far. But we may go out again next week.”

Tina was gripping his hand, tight, then softer, and he wondered if he could burst into flames from all the lies he’d told recently. Not just to himself or to other people, but the ones that rooted deep down inside him. Like that Theo had never loved him, he’d just been  _ there _ , the easy one to latch onto. Credence hadn’t been able to be true to himself or his family, so he’d just been another student at the funeral, and it had felt wrong, every step of the way. But there was no going back. It was time for him to move on, or at least try.

Whenever he was at home, his eyes would instantly land on the closet, and what laid within. Not just his heart and soul in Theo’s jacket, but the shiny green and silver. It was so beautiful he was almost afraid to touch it, as if it might unravel from his fingertips brushing over the fabric. The sheen didn’t go away, and the bows were still perfectly prim and flat on the waistband and at the dip of the neckline for the bra. It wasted away and might just vanish altogether if it stayed in there. Credence considered, humming to himself, before his phone chirped and it was a text from  _ him _ , Mister Graves asking if he was free tonight.

Friday afternoons usually lent themselves to a nap after work, and sometimes a visit to the coffee shop to snag his friends when  _ they _ got off work, and they might all visit a diner, or go see a movie. They couldn’t go to bars yet, or at least, not with him in tow, so he swiped back a ‘yes,’ and got a smiley face in reply.

That was it then. He was going to see Mister Graves again, and he wouldn’t be such a coward now, he’d be fortified by the knowledge that anything could happen and he would let it, with the help of the delicate pretty things whispering over his skin, it was like he could conquer the world. 

Credence wore a heavy knit shirt over the top, and his usual jeans to hide the lacy swirls of silver and the green bows carefully tucked behind the zip fly.

He stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, fussing with his hair, and wondering if he should tie it back or just wear it down, or maybe even find a hat to tame it with, but eventually, decided it would have to do, as he was.

He looked… nice, innocent enough. 

Mister Graves would either be happy or he’d be disgusted, and Credence wasn’t sure which was worse at that point.

He drove back into town and parked in his usual spot, before walking past the front door, and seeing no sign of anyone, he inhaled deeply, and strode inside. He couldn’t call for the elevator, but he could slip past when someone left, heart thudding in his chest, as he reached out to stab the button for the proper floor, it was like he’d turned into something else entirely, a sort of criminal, but one out to steal kisses, and time, not things of real value.

When he arrived on the man’s floor, every step echoed, though his shoes were silent on the carpet, he realized he was just stepping very heavily. He knocked on the door and then rang the doorbell for good measure, standing outside feeling as awkward as ever, until finally, there was a sound on the other side of the door, and it swung open to reveal Mister Graves, with wet hair, a bare chest, and only a towel clutched around his waist.

Credence felt his stomach drop to around his knees as his cock hardened halfway and the man just quirked a brow at him.

“You’re early. I thought we said seven?”

Credence didn’t have to check his phone to know the man was right. It was half past six, but he’d not been sure how much traffic he’d run into, so he’d given himself an hour, as always.

“Well, come in. There’s no point in you standing out here in the hallway, drawing attention.” Credence nodded, shuffling forward, moving into the entryway just enough so that Mister Graves could close the door securely behind him, and he tried to walk past, to continue on to the living room, prepared to patiently wait, but then there was a hand on his wrist, damp and warm.

The man had clearly just come out of the shower, and wasn’t even completely dry, but Credence’s mouth was, as he let himself be pulled back, pressed against the closest wall, and Mister Graves was just watching him, eyes dark, and lips parted inches from his own, breathing heavily.

“Do you want to know what I was doing?”

Credence swallowed,

“Yes.”

Mister Graves’ mouth curved into a smile, and he looked down, probably just wondering why Credence was so overdressed for a plain dinner date, until he took the hand still held in his wrist, and pushed it against his towel, somewhere around his groin, and his heart skipped a beat. Mister Graves was  _ very _ hard under the thick fabric.

“I was  _ trying _ to jerk off. Hoping I might be a little less distracted than last time. Forgive me Credence, but you’re painfully lovely.”

“But I’m just-”

“Distracting? Yes. I think I’ve been hard since you texted me.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like hearing such a thing, especially coming from a man like Mister Graves, but Credence couldn’t afford to get harder, he would ruin his nice underwear, by dripping pre against the fabric. In vain, he tried to pull away, wriggle free, but the man’s arms were strong, and he was held in place by both, along with his towel clad hips, bracketed right over his own, grinding close, it managed to tear a gasp from him, as his own hips jerked against the man, desperate for friction.

“Fuck. You should see yourself. Kiss me, please. Then I’ll go get dressed. Have a drink, make yourself at home while you wait.”

Credence nodded, knees rapidly weakening, and the man leaned in, nuzzling against his cheek, before putting his lips against his own, and his eyes fluttered closed, as he felt a hand slide down his back, and palm over his ass, pulling him even closer, he could now feel his cock starting to pulse, twitching closer to coming.

He tried to stop from moaning, but it was impossible, so he put a palm flat against Mister Graves’ bare chest, his skin hot to the touch. 

“Christ. Credence, if we don’t stop this, I’m going to fucking embarass myself right here, right now.”

Credence gulped, and tried to think of something to say that didn’t sound like begging, so he just whispered,

“I know.”

The man broke away, and left him, sagging and leaning against the wall, panting for breath. He’d half expected Mister Graves to change his mind, and get rid of the towel in favor of ravishing him right there, in the front hallway. Or, he considered, he’d have been happy to drop to his knees.

Instead he was alone now, and he could stagger to the living room, collapsing onto the couch, in vain, hope that his erection would go down, or at least not leak _ too  _ much against the silk. The way the fabric rubbed over his skin had made him harden twice as fast, not to mention how the lace scraped over his nipples, now budding under the cups, and hidden blessedly by his shirt.

Credence laid over the couch, feeling fever weak and on edge, as if the man would only need to speak to him, demand that he come, and he imagined he would.

After a few moments of silence, footsteps sounded, and Credence sat up, out of the half asleep and half aroused daze he’d been in, to find Mister Graves puttering around the kitchen, humming as he mixed up something for them both to drink.

He hoped at least.

“Mister Graves? You feeling better?”

His voice was a squeak, and he swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to cough.

“Ah, yes, thank you Credence. I apologize for my inappropriate behavior. That was uncalled for. I basically assaulted you.”

Credence accepted the glass he was handed, filled with ice and an amber liquid, smelling spicy and sharp, some kind of alcohol.

“Oh. No it was okay. I liked it. Kind of.”

Mister Graves quirked a brow at him, hair now perfectly styled back, held where it was, framing his face by something shiny like gel.

“Is that right? Well, please, anytime you want something, just, go for it. I give you my word I will not attempt such a thing again.”

“What about dinner?”

Mister Graves looked at his watch, and shrugged.

“It’s early yet. We can order something around nine if you want to stick with drinks for now. Any ideas?”

He took a long sip from his glass, and had drained it shortly enough, while Credence barely managed to sniff his own, before taking a tentative taste.

He coughed.

It was very bitter.

“You mean… what _ I  _ want to do?”

Mister Graves blinked, then nodded.

“Indeed. We’re taking a night in, I assume to better become acquainted. Is it cold in here, are you chilled?”

He ran a hand down Credence’s arm, already breaking the rule that he’d seemingly established, making him shiver.

“No. I just thought…”

“Would you like something of mine to wear instead? Something lighter?”

Credence’s eyes went wide at the thought of revealing his hidden lingerie so soon, and he shook his head.

“All right. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The man himself was dressed impeccably as always, a pressed shirt, dark blue, with black slacks and shined shoes. He looked as if he’d just gotten ready for work, if he worked in an office, and wasn’t a writer, as Credence knew him to be.

“What is this?”

He finally asked, halfway through his own glass of burning cold liquor, and Mister Graves held up his and frowned,

“Oh sorry. It’s my favorite whiskey. Just a starter. A palate cleanser. Do you want something different? Did you prefer the wine from last time?”

Credence almost coughed again, the bite of the last sip was a bit harsh.

“Yes. Please. Thank you.”

The man got to his feet and patted his shoulder as he walked around to the kitchen,

“Not at all. I should have asked. I guess I just needed something to calm my nerves.”

“Why?”

Mister Graves looked over at him from where he was behind the counter, while Credence leaned up against the back of the couch, and tried to resist the urge to rub against it, his cock still half hard under the silk and behind the seam of his jeans.

“Would you believe me if I told you, that it’s you?”

Credence shook his head.

“What did I do?”

“You don’t have to  _ do  _ anything, but the way you responded to that kiss, well, for starters, that was something else.”

In a good way?

He could only hope.

When the man returned to the couch, plopping down beside him, he was handed a glass of sparkling white wine, as Mister Graves set his own renewed tumbler onto the coffee table in front of them.

“So.”

“So…”

“Can I kiss you again, is that allowed?”

Mister Graves smiled, and shrugged,

“If it’s what you would like, I’m all ears. Or lips, as it were.”

Credence could feel his cheeks burning, even as his throat had from the whiskey, but it didn’t stop him from shifting over, putting one hand at a time on the man’s shoulders, then leaning down to do just that.

A hand, warm and heavy landed on his hip, and he couldn’t help but think if the man reached up, dipped his hand under his shirt, then he’d  _ know _ . He’d feel the bra straps, and he’d be aware  _ something _ was going on.

Credence was just desperate to show off, but also too scared to really do it just yet, so he waited, until the man had finished a second glass full, and he had started properly on his wine.

He was starting to feel pleasantly dizzy and rather heavy, all over, as if it took extra work to reach out and touch Mister Graves’s neck, or maybe he was just imagining the hard lump he could feel under his body, perched as he was in the man’s lap.

“Credence, would you like to move somewhere more comfortable?”

He clung to the man’s neck and shoulders, before he found himself nodding, mouth pressing against the scrape of Mister Graves’ stubble, and  _ both _ strong arms encircled his waist, changing his center of gravity as he stood up.

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

Opening the door to find Credence waiting for him, while he’d been literally halfway to coming with the same boy’s name on his lips was, disconcerting. As if he’d conjured him forth with the power of his arousal, fantasy made flesh. It wasn’t bad, per se, but it meant that any plans to  _ not _ have any sort of sex that night were instantly ignored. All that mattered now was making it good, taking his time, and being as careful as he could. He didn’t want to rush, to scare the boy off, or just pin him to the wall, but so much for that, he’d already been awkward as fuck and practically done just that.

Once in his room, every sound seemed to fall to a hush, and he didn’t drop Credence on his bed, so much as drape him, gently, kissing him almost the whole way.

“May I?”

His hands framed the boy’s hips easily, and he could feel that he’s just as hard, cock visible through his jeans, it would be to tease him, but he’d much rather get him undressed and put his mouth there, see if Credence could make some more of the sounds he’d let out during the ambushed kiss.

“Yes, okay. Please.”

He pushed his hands under the hem of the boy’s shirt and then there was miles of pale creamy skin, so he ogled, for a bit, before nudging it up the rest of the way, as Credence shifted back to help get it off, and he went still, tensed, as if afraid.

“What’s wrong-?”

Nothing amiss, but instead of just  _ nothing _ underneath the boy’s shirt, there was a scrap of green silk and silver lace trimmings.

His cock throbbed against his inseam, and Percy’s mouth went dry.

“I’m sorry, I just thought-”

“No… no, it’s perfect.  _ You’re _ perfect.”

He put a shaky hand to graze over one of the boy’s nipples, hidden by sheer fabric, and the gasp he got in reply was music to his ears. He leaned in slowly, and kept his eyes open until Credence’s fell shut, pressing him back to the bed with the fierceness of the kiss.

“Is it a matching set?”

He put his other hand to the boy’s groin, palming along the line of his cock, and he felt his hips jump,

“Maybe…?”

Percy hardly noticed he was sweating until something tickled the side of his face, and Credence’s hands started to feel like they were burning into the fabric of his shirt, so he gently broke away, and started undoing his own clothing, carelessly leaving them in a pile on the floor, keeping just his boxers on.

“Now, let’s see about that other half.”

Credence was blushing bright pink, and seemed tempted to hide behind his hands, so Percy made quick work of his jeans, and tugged them off and away, leaving the boy only in two pieces of emerald green silk.

“God… you’re fucking incredible.”

He traced his fingertips over the now obscene bulge in the boy’s underwear, and felt his entire body shudder, as he saw slender fingers fist the sheets, and his hips shifted.

“You really like it?”

Percy lifted his gaze, with effort, back to the boy’s face, and smiled,

“Very much. It’s fucking perfect for you. It makes me want to ruin it.”

He pressed two fingers against the head of the boy’s cock with purpose, and he squirmed, as Percy could feel wetness seeping through the thin fabric.

“I could take it off…”

“Not yet.”

Percy swooped in for another kiss, while applying one hand to himself briefly, if he wasn’t careful, he’d blow his load from just looking at the boy like that, nevermind any actual contact. He dragged his mouth down the boy’s sharp jawline, to suckle little bites on his neck and shoulders, pushing down one of the bra straps, and then revealing a pink and hardened bud of a nipple, which he couldn’t resist kissing, and just barely trapping between his teeth, until Credence let out a whimper, and he stopped, chastely kissed below, and beyond, shifting back on his knees, so that the heat from the boy’s cock was just under his palm, making his mouth water.

“Hold still.”

“What are you-?”

Credence let out a groan that broke off into a high pitched squeak when Percy’s lips pressed over his navel and down to the edge of the panties, before he could finally lick against the tip, tasting salty precome. He hummed, and mouthed over the head of the boy’s cock, wetting the fabric completely, feeling how the boy’s thighs trembled under his hands.

“That feels, ugh, I might come if you do too much-”

Percy nodded, and rubbed harder, pushing his tongue against the obvious slit he could feel the outline of, while reaching down, thumbing over the swell of Credence’s balls, cupped gently by the soft fabric.

“Come for me, my boy.”

His back arched and his legs fell open as his cock pulsed hot under the fabric, further wetness seeping forth, soaking the panties and seeping out around the edges, white drops that Percy chased with an eager tongue, and then and only then did he reach up and tug down the waistband, letting the boy’s now softened and oversensitive cock rest over his stomach, looking just as pretty and plump as his lips were after they’d kissed.

“I’ll never get that all out.”

Credence lamented sadly, but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“But the bra is still okay…”

Percy looked up and caught the boy staring, as he smirked.

“I was rather hoping I could come on your pretty tits. Is that okay?”

Credence’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Um,” Percy pressed a kiss to the boy’s sweaty abdomen, and then sat up properly, helping him out of the ruined panties to toss them aside, leaving him naked from the waist down. He remained between the boy’s spread legs, and folded them up and over easily enough, so that he could at least eye where he’d eventually like to fuck him.

“I would like to finish on you. If you have no objections.”

Credence’s eyes dropped to his crotch, where his cock was jutting out of his boxers, he’d been ignoring it for far too long, so he touched it, unconsciously, and the boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Yeah. Okay. Can I touch you?”

Percy nodded so fast his head started to pound, and Credence’s hand was soft, gentle over his length, barely wrapping his fingers around the head, thumbing slowly over the slippery precome on the tip, staring as if it was something precious, when in fact, he’d always felt perfectly ordinary.

“What happens after?”

After he came?

“Um.”

“Do you still want to have dinner? Or should I leave?”

“No! I mean, I would like you to stay.”

Percy sighed, and then just dipped down to kiss Credence, as if that would solve everything and answer most questions, and indeed, it did.

After a few moments of Credence’s explorative strokes, Percy could feel his knees starting to act up, so he needed to lay down, or concentrate on finishing.

“Do you mind if I take over?”

He murmured against the boy’s lips, and he got a slow nod in reply.

All he had to do was be given back the reigns, take one long look at the spread of Credence’s form, along with the cheeky bra still half over him, and he was gone, fucking into his fist and spilling long wet ropes onto all that pale skin, and a few drips onto the dark silk.

“Ah… fuck.”

“I almost wish I’d let you take me when you were already naked.”

Percy laughed, and then climbed off the bed, staggering over to the bathroom to grab something to attempt to clean the boy up with. He tucked his cock away into his boxers and glanced in the mirror for a half second. He looked more relaxed than he could remember feeling in a long while. He returned to find Credence staring up at the ceiling, seeming more than a little blissed out.

“Here.”

He wiped down the boy’s chest, and then down to his stomach where he’d originally come on himself.

The bra was taken off and tossed aside as well, and Percy just scrounged around for a second to pass him a pair of his boxers, which, thanks to the elastic, fit perfectly fine.

“You look too good in my clothing.”

It actually made his heart lurch to a stop in his chest, before starting again with a groan, as Credence ducked his head and blushed again, before standing still, and apparently waiting for Percy to escort him back to the kitchen. He did, but not before stealing one more kiss.

* * *

 

 

Dinner was so surprisingly casual, the food was delivered to the door, Mister Graves got it, and then brought it to the kitchen for them both to work on. They sat around munching on takeout in just a pair of boxers each, and Credence couldn’t keep from staring. Every time the man moved, a muscle in his arm or his back would flex, and he found himself wanting to lick it, or kiss it, something equally ridiculous. He’d already had an orgasm, and all from just a few touches of the man’s hand and mouth on his cock, he shouldn’t have felt so agitated and aroused, like he wanted any moment to be kissed against the counter, or fucked over the dining room table.

“What?”

Credence blinked, and he knew he’d been caught.

“Oh. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

_ ‘Letting you fuck me.’ _

That seemed a little rushed, and forward, for a second date, so he just shrugged. The fact of the matter was, they’d done things in two dates that it had taken months for him to work up to with Theo. What did that mean? Did it make him some kind of grief stricken slut? Was he failing all of his previously insisted upon rules and boundaries?”

“Hey… are you okay?”

Mister Graves was at his side suddenly, a warm hand splayed over his bare back, rubbing over his skin soothingly.

All he wanted was to melt into that touch, and beg for more.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“You don’t actually have to spend the night if you don’t want to.”

Credence couldn’t back out now, he’d already spun the tale to his parents, and he was committed to being out all night. He reached out and put a hand onto the man’s shoulder, squeezing gently, as if confirming he was real, there, and still wanted all of it.

“I want to. Please.”

Mister Graves broke into a smile,

“Well, when you ask so politely, how could I refuse?” The man leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before plucking away the dirty glasses and tossing the used plastic plates and utensils away, finishing off by washing his hands, and then walking back over to him.

“Another drink, or-?”

Credence pressed his lips together, unable to help looking towards the bedroom.

“Or?”

Mister Graves shrugged,

“We could do something else.”

He was touching Credence, his hand moving from his lower back to splay over his ass, fingers burning through the fabric of his shorts, and suddenly he just wanted to be closer, immediately, wanted the man to touch him lower, harder.

“Please?”

“Fuck. You got it.”

They stumbled back to the bedroom, occasionally stopping to lean against a wall and just kiss for a few long seconds, before they finally fell through the right doorway, and Credence broke away to pant for air.

“I have some stuff in the drawer. Can I fuck you? I mean, with my fingers.”

Credence bit his lip to keep from saying yes to both, and just nodded, falling back onto the bed, and pushing off his boxers, or rather, the borrowed ones, praying the man would do the same.

He wanted to see the man’s cock, and maybe put his mouth on him.

“Okay, good, great.”

Mister Graves bent over and then when he straightened back up, he’d gotten rid of his shorts, letting Credence ogle him completely, even as he was doing things that couldn’t remotely be considered sexy, opening a drawer, pulling out a bottle of clear gel, no, lubrication, and then climbing onto the bed beside him.

“Sorry, it might be a little cold. I keep the air running near constantly in here once summer hits.”

Credence was about to say it was fine, but he couldn’t breath much less speak as Mister Graves leaned over him, gently nudging between his legs to kiss him, while one hand pressed below his cock, hardening more with every second, and then beyond that, to rub a finger, cold and slick, right over his hole.

“Oh!”

“Is that okay? Have you ever…”

Mister Graves trailed off, and Credence met his questioning gaze, feeling his face start to burn,

“Only with one or two fingers. In the shower. I never really have time.”

The man hummed, and then put his mouth down to Credence’s neck, licking and kissing over a spot that he’d hardly even known was so sensitive, while carefully working up to a knuckle inside him.

“It’s all right. I’m happy to go as slow as you want. I can just make you come, and I’ll happily finish on your back, or-”

“In my mouth?” Credence blurted out, and Mister Graves pulled back to stare down at him, before nodding, a grin curving his lips.

“Gladly. If you want.”

He opened his mouth to say _ ‘Yes, please,’  _ or something along those lines, but the man pressed a finger all the way inside him, and crooked it just so, he felt his cock twitch, and his thighs tightened against the man’s waist.

“Oh... That’s good.”

More cool slickness and the sound of another finger trying to slip in was obscene to Credence’s ears, but god, it felt so amazing. Mister Graves’ fingers were thick and calloused and just perfect, he fumbled around, trying to reach to touch the man’s cock, but he couldn’t quite make it, so he settled for stroking over himself, and he got another kiss for his efforts.

“Is this-?”

Credence let his head fall back against the pillows, fully surrendering to the man’s touch, his own hand going slack on his cock, and the next thing he knew, wet warmth had surrounded the head, and he could feel a tongue rubbing over the slit, while two fingers kept working inside him, slowly coaxing him to relax enough to take a third, and he could feel how close he was. The coil of something hot and ticklish inside his gut was settling, preparing to shatter, and Credence could only lay still, and wait for it to overwhelm him.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this. I could come from watching you.”

“Really?”

It’s more of a low whine than a question, but Credence’s vision had begun to blur at the edges, and when his orgasm hit him, it was like a freight train, a gut punch, his cock twitched and spurted up to his neck without a single touch, but Mister Graves kept his mouth close, he was licking down the side of his length, and then the fingers inside him went still. 

“Fuck.”

The man withdrew his hand, and Credence was certain he looked disgusting now, covered in his own come and feeling slippery between his thighs from lube, but Mister Graves crawled back up the length of his body to kiss him, and rubbed his cock against his thighs.

“Oh.”

He’s just as hard, and possibly dripping onto Credence’s stomach, so he arched his back, trying to press closer, and his eyes fell shut.

“Do you-”

Mister Graves hummed over his mouth, and Credence could swear he was smiling,

“What’s that?”

“Would you put it inside me?”

The man inhaled sharply, and he pulled back, forcing Credence to open his eyes, only to find Mister Graves looking at him with something he didn’t quite recognize on his face.

“Are you sure? It might hurt…”

Credence shook his head, and pulled him back when he tried to shrink away, his arms linked behind Mister Graves’ neck.

“Please.”

He had to do it now, before he lost his nerve, got one hundred percent sober again, and realized what he had just asked for.

The man shuddered, and then kissed the side of his neck, nipping just shy of hard,

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

He reached between their bodies to properly line up, and Credence could feel the thick press of the man’s cock, but he’s fairly relaxed, he’s just come, he’s not going to be worried about it. Before he knows it, Mister Graves’ cock had slipped halfway inside, and though his legs tremble, a strong hand held one of them still, right up against his side.

“Breathe with me baby. Almost there. You feel amazing.”

Credence smiled, he couldn’t stop that.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, thank  _ you _ .”

The man’s arms were trembling, Credence could feel it, when he got pushed all the way in, and his hips shifted of their own accord, little jerky thrusts, so that Mister Graves could have some semblance of friction against his cock.

“Fuck. Do you want me to finish… inside you?”

“Mhm. Please!”

Just for the feel of it, that’s what Credence thought to himself. But god, when he did, when Mister Graves groaned and collapsed onto him, burying his face into the crook of his neck, warmth filled Credence up deeper than he’d even felt reached by the man’s cock, it was like nothing he’d ever known.

The man stilled over him, and then carefully moved back, before rolling over and falling onto his side.

“Sorry… I hope it didn’t hurt you too bad.”

“Hurt?  _ That _ ?”

Every inch of Credence’s body was tingling, and he thought maybe he might be able to come again, if Mister Graves had been inside him a little longer, so he just shook his head, and fought to breathe.

“No… it was amazing.”

“You flatter me.”

“No, I mean it.”

The man reached between his legs, and his fingers dipped into the come that was slipping out of him slowly, trickling over his skin, and Credence can’t help smiling, looking at him like there’s something more. 

“You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“I guess it means I’m not a virgin any longer, huh?”

Credence didn’t mean to say it so flippantly, but there it was.

“Heavy stuff. But yes. It’s a very intimate thing to trust someone with. I’m grateful. I hope it was all okay?”

Credence frowned slightly,

“Of course. I mean, I could go again if you want…”

The man clapped a hand to his chest,

“Oh god. I don’t think I can tonight. Sweetheart... can I call you that? It’s adorable how eager you are. Unfortunately I can’t pretend to begin to keep up with your stamina.”

Credence rolled over and propped his chin up on the man’s shoulder.

“How old _ are  _ you?”

Mister Graves smirked as he looked over at him,

“Cheeky after you get what you want, aren’t you? I’ll be forty next spring.”

Twice his age, basically. Opposite sides of the spectrum, Theo and Mister Graves. That was all there was to it.

“You’re suddenly quiet. It worries me.”

Mister Graves’ hand carded through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.

“Just thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Mhm.”

He shifted to lay down beside the man, and put an arm over his chest, for a moment just listening to the sound of both of them breathing, before he thought of something.

“Would you want… I mean, I’m not too young for you to date, am I?”

He hoped that it wouldn’t just be some kind of fling.

The man sighed, and clasped a hand over one of his,

“Not at all. I mean. Yes, you’re younger. But, also, you’re bright. Clever, kind, cute as fuck. Even if you get tired of me, I’ll be grateful for any time we spend together.”

Credence frowned and sat up, leaning in to kiss Mister Graves soundly,

“I can’t get tired of you. You’re too interesting.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that now, only because you haven’t read any of my books yet.”

“Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

Percy didn’t usually fall asleep with someone else in his bed very easily, but Credence, why, he was so quiet, lightweight, he barely noticed when he would move and shift, or got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water. When he woke up wrapped up in the boy’s long limbs, he found himself smiling, and closing his eyes, trying to get back to sleep, in vain, it seemed, as Credence snuggled nearer, he bumped a thigh right against Percy’s cock.

“Oh.”

“Hmm…”

“Good morning?”

Credence shook with silent laughter, and Percy sighed,

“How long have  _ you _ been up?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

Percy swooped in and kissed Credence before he could even think to be shy about anything like morning breath, all he tasted like was the tart white wine, and he rolled them over so he was on top, rubbing their cocks together with a slow grind of his hips.

“God, what’s ugh, for breakfast?”

Percy nipped over the boy’s bottom lip,

“I was thinking you, maybe.”

“What?”

Credence gasped, mainly because he’d put a hand between them, thumbing over his cock and thrusting with purpose against him.

“I want you in my mouth again. Then we can go shower, and have some real food.”

Percy chuckled against his neck, and began to kiss down his chest, stroking Credence’s cock the whole way, before he could put his mouth on the flushed tip.

That time, he swallowed him down to the base, as best he could, and felt the very second he started to come, pulsing down the back of his throat, while Credence made little movements of his hips in vain, as Percy held him down with a firm hand, and treasured every sound he made.

“Please, oh god, yes.”

Percy hummed, just to drag it out, and then a hand was carding through his hair, nudging him back, so he smiled, and moved off to kiss right above Credence’s hip.

“Good?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“If you want to… or we can go shower and try it in there.”

Shower sex had never been something he’d ever attempted, the closest thing could be called shower blowjobs, or shower fingering. But blowjobs was good enough, because the second the water was warm enough and he stepped in, under the spray, Credence followed, and dropped to his knees.

“O-oh-kay.”

Both of his hands braced on Percy’s hips, holding him still, so that he could lean in, and mouth against his inner thigh, just barely avoiding the head of his cock, hard and dripping, thanks to the shower water.

“You’re so big, Mister Graves.”

“Little tease.”

He couldn’t help smiling, though he was groaning in seconds when Credence swallowed down half of his length, tongue laving the underside so fast it felt like a vibration. He hummed too, and nosed in, moving so close Percy wondered if he would be able to feel himself in the boy’s throat if he could muster the strength to touch him anywhere but his dark damp curls, pushing them back from spilling over his forehead.

“God, that’s good.”

His back hit the cool tile of the shower wall, and a groan escaped his mouth that sounded far too guttural to be his, as Credence started to pull back, and rubbed his tongue over the head, tickling the slit, his hips jerked forward, making the boy cough.

“Sorry.”

He sort of wasn’t, though when Credence swallowed around him, and put his hand up to splay over Percy’s stomach, pinning him in place, he tightened his fingers in the boy’s hair, tried not to fuck into his throat too hard.

The closer he got, the hotter the water felt, and he could feel Credence’s other hand gripping into his leg, so he loosened his hold on the boy’s hair, and breathed in deeply, counting backwards from one hundred, hoping it would slow things down. Then the boy did  _ something _ with his tongue and pulled back at once, reaching down to wrap his finger and thumb around the base of his cock, before looking right at him as he sucked pointedly on the head, and Percy could swear that he was smiling.

“Fuck.”

He came with a low groan, and felt his legs threatening to give out, as Credence swallowed every drop down, only sitting back on his heels to grin properly.

“Good morning?”

“Come here.”

Percy growled, tugging him up to his feet for a sloppy kiss, before turning the water on cooler, and shoving him into the spray, making him giggle.

That was a sound he wanted to bottle up and replay.

 

After a shower that probably used all the hot water in that side of the building, breakfast was a lazy affair, with stolen glances over coffee, and lingering kisses even when the clock flashed ten in the morning, and Credence  _ really _ had to be going, Percy was reluctant, but understood.

“Text me.”

“Of course.”

The first one was actually around noon, and he’d warmed up some of the leftover takeout to munch on, while looking over what he’d turned in, and would need to expand on.

He texted back and found himself setting up another date, where had his sense of patience gone? Percy supposed in a way, Credence just happened to be infectious to be around. He smiled as he finally set his phone down, and began to type on his blank page.

By the time he was going out to write, to the coffee shop, on a Monday morning, he’d gotten around twenty pages typed up, and he threw Credence a smile as he walked past the desk, catching a hint of a blush blossoming on his cheeks.

“Good morning Mister Graves.”

“Credence. Hold the fort down.”

“Always do.”

He smiled to himself as he went out the door. Finally he had something to look forward to at the end of the week, instead of just a dreary email to write to his editor. He got a text as soon as he sat down inside the shop, and bit back a laugh. Credence thought his pants looked very nice, if a little tight over his ass.

_ ‘Showing off for anyone in particular?’ _

**_‘Maybe.’_ **

_ ‘Should we move up the date?’ _

**_‘That’s a novel idea.’_ **

_ ‘Ah, puns.’ _

Percy grinned, and sent a kiss, before tucking away his phone and returning to his laptop, today he’d at last get some work done.

 

* * *

 

**END**


End file.
